Moments of the Heart
by Ballpoint Angel
Summary: In Molly's life there have been many moments. Molly/Toby  or Hikari/Tao. Rated T for light citrus. UPDATED: Chapter 7: Remember
1. Love Light

**Moments of the Heart  
A Harvest Moon Drabble Set**

***Love Light***

_Candle light, moon light, star light,_  
_The brightest glow is from love light._  
_~Grey Livingston_

It was evening, and the summer night was humid. But the waterwheel kept on turning, and the coolness of the water was inviting. It was by the white rock near the stream at the edge of the farm where I sat down. Tired from the day's work, my hands flew to undo my yellow canvas boots and free my feet to roam the cool grass.

I didn't really need to turn around when I heard footsteps. I already recognized my husband by the rhythm of his walk: slow, soft, deliberate. It made crisp rustles in the green grassy hill fields that we lived in, the sound drowned out by the ever-loudening cries of crickets.

He sat down beside me and wrapped a warm arm around my waist. I laid my head on the side of his gently sloping shoulders, inhaling the scent of the day that did not yet fade away from his form. His slightly chapped lips found their way to my forehead, and I replied with my own on the corner of his mouth. We stayed together like that for a while, and then my husband spoke.

"Why have you been staying here these past few summer nights?"

I shrugged my shoulders under my chestnut-brown mop of hair, blushing a little under his gaze. "I don't know, you might laugh. It's kind of funny." And a little laugh issued from my lips.  
"I promise I won't. I just want to know."

I smiled and took his hand and placed it on top of my knee, drawing my arm to point at the bushes by the stream. "Look."

He opened his eyes wider when he saw the lightning-bugs emerge from the bushes. I looked at his face and chuckled. "It is kinda silly, huh?"

* * *

_The night was balmy and the big river at Flute Fields seemed to be more serene that night. My boyfriend had invited me to light the lanterns and send them down as a way to respect and honor ancestors and departed friends._

_We both gathered their flowers and let them go in the cool water. They seemed so pretty, like flowers with hearts of fire. My cousins Adam and Amanda told me about this festival, and so have my twin siblings Angela and Kevin. It was a spiritually cleansing ritual, and I felt my heart become light when I saw the parade of glowing lanterns drift away._

_I couldn't help but be quite sombre at this point, and I knew that a shadow of a frown crossed my face. The young man with me saw this and looked worried. I was simply remembering my mother, I told him, whom I had lost when I was a small child. He squeezed my hand to comfort me, sharing that his parents also died long ago. We both prayed to our families, and I felt a sudden peace come into me._

_Then the fireflies flew out of their hiding places to dance on the river's way._

_For a while I stood there, enchanted at the parade of living stars that came and went with the water's flow. My boyfriend was beside me, too, and he was transfixed at the light-angels that danced up and down the waterwheel's steps. His slightly rough fingers were gently curled around mine, and a single word escaped his lips._

_"Fireflies..."_

_I tore away from the river for a while and saw his eyes widen in surprise, and I smiled when I saw how pretty his eyes were, more evident in the quiet darkness of night. His smiling mouth was serene, and his normally sun-worn skin looked satiny by the sheen of the rippling marine light._

_It was by this light where we said our goodbyes later that evening, and I blushed to hear at how pretty I looked that night, with the water shimmering my pale skin and the fireflies in my eyes. He smiled tenderly at me and whispered in the night, "I will always be by your side."_

_I could not forget how he always spoke gently to me, a mark of all the love he gave to those he cared about. Whenever he captured my lips in a kiss, I felt like my heart would melt. But it was that moment of love that truly made me realize how blessed I was to have him by my side that night._

_The next day, I plucked up enough courage to show him that I wanted to be by his side forever._

* * *

Toby's smile grew wider and both his arms curled closer around my waist. "It's not silly, Moll. It's sweet." And he kissed me fondly on the cheek. His scent is of the salty seabreezes and mine is of the sun-dried grass, We lingered like that for a long while, until the moon grew higher into the sky and the dark began to deepen.

And so we returned home together, side by side as the fireflies bid us goodnight.

**Fin**


	2. Faith

**Moments of the Heart**  
**A Harvest Moon Drabble Set**

***Faith***

_**"You walk in with me, you walk out with me."**_  
_**-Danny Perasa, from "Danny and Annie", Storycorps**_

* * *

"I'll be there for the both of you."

It was the beginning of fall, and there were faded green leaves sinking into the honey-dipped season of plenty. The ocean was darker now, a greyish blue contrasting itself with the vibrancy of the land.

Those grey blue waters made slippery ripples around a fishing boat docked in Harmonica Town's harbor. It was armed with great amounts of rope, coils of nets and cages for crabs and lobsters. The men working at the boat were already on the deck, preparing everything to sail. All the men except one.

The last summer storm had done grave damage to Harmonica, but the worst problems were at Sunspot Farm. The barn, coop, and watermill were damaged, and much of the remaining crops were blown away. With Molly's siblings using their share of the summer crops to pay for their smaller houses, Molly would be severely pushed for money in repairing and reinforcing the buildings, aside from buying the necessary supplies and seeds for the beginning of autumn.

Then, she became pregnant with their first child.

Toby felt a horrible clamp in his chest, him leaving his wife and unborn child. But the money they needed would not be easily found, and loans that could be used now have to be paid somehow. Toby also had an obligation to his uncle Ozzie and cousin Paolo, being the active fisher of the three and providing the bulk of what the Fishery sells. With the open sea yielding more fish, going with the crew seemed to be the only sensible solution.

Still his hands still held on to hers and his body was reluctant to leave her. He stroked Molly's pale cheek and fluttered towards her curving stomach. The young woman was calm; her soft brown eyes held the same meaning of her softly smiling lips, although her eyebrows making a worried pinch on her forehead somewhat marred her serenity. There was worry, yes, as all wives who love their husbands have.

But there was also acceptance, because Toby's wife would not have expected anything less from her good husband. She had faith in him, and he was determined to return safe and sound. That was enough for her. The brunette stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, whispering as the sea breezes blew.

"We will be waiting."

And they knew that in the beginnings of spring, he would be home to welcome their child to the world.

_**Fin**_


	3. Papa

_Moments of the Heart: A Harvest Moon Drabble Set  
_

**~Papa~**

"Mama, look what I found!"

I heard the squeak of wet dishes as my wife turned around to look at our son, holding a towel in her hands. I was sitting on an armchair and reading, until something else took my interest.

Our little boy was just arriving from a short evening walk with our dog, Edd. Their footprints left bits of sand on the floorboards, and the salty smells drifted in the air around them...that probably meant that they had been at the beach recently. Something round was in the child's hands.

"Guess what kind of egg it is, Mama!"

Molly wiped her hands and took the white orb from his hands. "Well, it's certainly not a chicken egg, or a duck egg. And it's much too small to be an ostrich egg. Certainly not an egg I've ever seen..." She turned to me with a smile and held the egg out to me. "Do you know what this is, dear?"

I stood and took the egg from her hands. It was pale white and almost perfectly round. The shell felt quite soft-leathery, even. Sand brushed the pads of my fingers when I held it. "...I think this is a sea turtle egg. Did you dig this up at the beach, Tully?"

"Edd dug it up, Papa!" Tully hugged the huge white Pyrenees round its fluffy neck. "We were looking for some sakura seashells when Edd smelled something warm in the sand. Oh, can we keep it, Papa? I've never seen a sea turtle before, except in picture books at school." I could see his soft green eyes shining at me.

"We need to put it back under the sand, Tully." I said gently. "Once the egg hatches under the warm sand, the baby sea turtle would wade out to the ocean with its brothers and sisters, into the big blue ocean. If he can't be returned to the sand, he might die."

Tully's eyes widened, and he nodded urgently. "Let's go, Papa, to bury that egg then!" And his little hand yanked at my coat sleeve with such strength. "Edd and I didn't cover up the hole at the beach!"

* * *

It was lucky that no snake or lizard had found the sea turtle eggs, which indeed lay exposed due to Edd's persistent digging. The three of us made our way to the beach and spotted the hole in the sand. When we looked in, Molly made a little gasp, and my eyes widened- there were at least thirty ping-pong ball eggs inside that single nest.

Carefully we began refilling the shallow nest with warm sand, carefully making sure not to completely cover the eggs under the mound. We had been digging for several minutes when Tully looked around the water's edge expectantly. He turned to me and asked:

"Where's the mama turtle? Shouldn't she know her eggs weren't safe?"  
"The mama turtle is probably in the ocean, Tully."  
"But doesn't the mama and papa turtles teach them how to be strong and stuff?"

I thought for a moment before answering him.

"Well, the mama turtle takes care of the eggs; she lays the eggs under the sand. When the babies hatch, they have to dig their way out. At first, they might not succeed, but as they become stronger they will be able to dig out and swim to the sea, understand?"  
"...I think so, Papa. But what about the papa turtle?"

A more pronounced pause followed this, and I think my wife's eyes could track the cogs of my brain trying to formulate an answer that didn't involve...a sensitive topic.

"The papa turtle doesn't stick around to help the mama turtle. Once he knows that the mama turtle will lay eggs, he leaves."  
"...Oh."

At this point Tully became silent. Almost serious. And at first I thought he would ask more into the father's role (and I wasn't sure I would be able to explain it properly). I was grateful that he didn't, for he went back and brought up warm handfuls of sand to cover the pit. I turned to Molly, who nodded at my explanation. The male's actual participation would have to come at a later time, preferably years from now.

"...Do you think you'll ever show me a sea turtle, Papa?"

"One day, perhaps. Maybe a bunch of baby sea turtles going to sea." Molly and I watched Tully pat the sand flat. It seemed that the sea turtles would, in time, hatch and grow well. I stood up and dusted the sand off my hands, turning to hold my hands out to my wife and son. The three of us stopped at the shoreline for a minute, enjoying the ocean breeze.

Then, Tully spoke. Before me was the perfect blend of my wife and I, with his pale complexion and rounded features, with his yellow-green eyes and peculiar messy silver hair. And here he was, so warm-hearted and gentle and loving, for he said:

"I'm very glad I'm not a sea turtle, Papa."  
"Really... And why is that?"  
"Because if I were, it would be only me and mama turtle, and no papa turtle."  
And he gave me a warm squeeze with his tiny fingers, as he looked up at me with his face shining.

"And I'm very, very glad!"

I felt another, slightly larger hand go to the small of my back, and I turned to my other side. Molly was looking at me, with the same shine in her eyes and a soft smile on her face. I felt her tiptoe and brush her lips to a corner of my mouth, and I knew that she could feel my heart fill with love and pride. _That's because he's our son, she seemed to say._ Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I knew mine did too.

I brought her cheek to mine for a moment before turning to my son and kissing him on the forehead, whispering to him.

"I'm glad too."


	4. Light

_Moments of the Heart: A Harvest Moon Drabble Set_

_May be read as a sad sequel to the second drabble._

**_*Light*_**

.

.

.

The spiked pink petals lay flat on the page, faded and forlorn. It was quashed between a dreary old history book that Molly had forgotten to put away, and she had put it there as something to sustain her once upon a time not so long ago. Despite the sentiment, the housewife doesn't dare look at it for long.

She finds it too sad even for her.

_Hey, in this world, are there still things that don't change still?_  
_Hey, in this heart, are there still things that needs to be told?_

The curly white cord is all that connects them now, as the familiar voice talked soft and sweet to her. Even through the telephone she thought her eyes could see his wave-beaten form. "Please come home safely," she whispers always, holding back the tears that her husband cannot see.

"Please."

He answers back as always, and his words don't hold much to her memory anymore. Only the smooth warmth of his voice. He, too, is tired of their distances put between them. Hearts that are stretched to bridge such gaps are prone to breaking.

_In the depths of night, morning awaits, and so the days, they repeat (themselves)._

Eventually the days seemed like the faded sepia frames of a film reel, she thought. That particular reel must have been clumsily looped and glued together with rotted candy, for its sweetness was sickening and full of nostalgia. The days and nights passed; the children grew with the fields and the farm smelled sweet with the blues of morning glories in the summertimes.

The space beside her in the bed had long been empty.

She had always been quiet, but even the pet dog noticed the change in his mistress. And he, too, was saddened. Eventually, she didn't have the strength to visit others-a task her friends have put upon themselves for her sake. Every day they came to see her, every day she cared for them and her household was her way of living.

At least, it seemed so to Molly.

Merry, her daughter, would sometimes ask of her, "When will Papa come home?" The hands that would be busy making supper would tremble (but just a tiny bit), and answer with a level voice, "Papa will come home after a long while, but I'm sure he will be so glad to see us when he does."

She dares not meet those painfully green eyes.

_Hey, I just hope that this voice reaches you._

Every night, when the children were asleep, she would climb out the window and sit on the roof. The ocean was just before her eyes as she merely talked to the moon. She prays to the Harvest Goddess and the Harvest King for her husband.

She prays for his health, as well as for their children's. She prays for these things, until the cold wind tells her to return back to her (their) bed.

In the end, though, all she wishes was to be by his side. If for the last time.

_From the end to the beginning._  
_Today, it starts with overflowing tears._

She is of a respectable age now when Toby returns to her to stay. Her hair was growing silvery as well when they meet again. Family and friends crowd to greet him, his children with tears in their eyes. Paolo is a man when the fisher returns home, and he can barely speak when the kind face had aged so much. The cruelty of time had taken a toll on everyone present.

Molly's expression is unreadable, and Merry turns to her brother with grief (_for how could a woman stay away from her man like that_?) but Tully merely puts his hand on her shoulder and shakes his head. He has a feeling that she is unbearably alone at that moment.

It is that day when the family goes to church together after many years. The leaves are gone from their tree-mothers' arms, and everywhere the land was hushed with snow. It is that day that Molly presses her lips to a cold cheek and turns her back on her husband for ever.

It is that day that black never stopped to drape her.

_Faraway, faraway, as the shadows of the past continues searching for that light.  
__Faraway, faraway, as I try to catch whatever heat that's left so that I won't disappear..._

"Molly...Molly..."

There is a gentle nudge, and the brunette wonders to see her Toby lying down beside her. His familiar tanned skin sparkled in the growing light, and his peridot eyes twinkled at her lovely face. His lips were curved into a smile. His wife wonders why the house is so quiet.

"I've missed you," and her voice cracks painfully, though curiously she sheds no tears.

"As have I," he replies, and his expression mirrors hers. His hand slides to the curve of her back, and suddenly they are unbroken again, healed and free. "Let's go," he whispers, and at last she knows that her reel has moved on. She falls into their embrace.

Quietly, he brings her into the light.

_And the light and the darkness, they intersect._  
_And something lies beyond._

It is not too long ago when Angie found her mother-in-law leafing through the bookcase and drawing out a worn history book from the shelves. She couldn't help the powder-blues of her eyes from watering when she saw the old woman touch the dried cosmos there so tenderly. The purple-haired woman thought of something comforting to say.

There is nothing.

**They say true love never dies.**  
**But sometimes lovers do.**

**FIN**


	5. Worth

_A/N: Last drabble was sad, so I want to be happy! Although this is much too long to be a drabble. :P Suggestions/questions will be appreciated in my formspring at my profile. :)_

**Moments of the Heart A Harvest Moon Drabble Set **

.

.

_**~Worth~ **_

.

.

.

It was a little later into the summer, and Toby decided that the catfish didn't care to come up and be caught anymore. He went home with a full pail of fisand shrimp, ready to give up his haul to the fishery and return home to his wife. She had been feeling ill recently, and told him that she would go to the clinic during her free time in the afternoon. If things were alright the fisher expected to see his wife happy and dinner cooked at home, his haven from the deceptively busy day.

It troubled him then, to see Molly sitting on their couch with an uncertain expression, hands primly folded on her lap and lips pressed together in a worrysome pink line. Sometimes she made tea before dinner, but the teapot was not on the table as it might have been. Edward, their Pyrenees, was fast asleep by the foot of the bed. Clarence seemed to have stalked off elsewhere, like all white cats do. All in all, the house was restlessly quiet, and that made Toby ill at ease.

He put his fishing pole away and his hat on the dresser before greeting her cautiously, trying to discern her facial cues like he did many people. Her soft brown eyes were glittering in a strange manner that seemed excited, though her body was relatively rigid. Her welcome was softer than usual, and somehow carried differently.

"Is everything alright, dear?" He sat next to Molly on the white cushions, reaching to touch her folded hands. They were trembling, although now that he arrived color stained her cheeks with such ferocity that Toby thought that she had a sudden fever. "Oh sweetheart...", she sighed and lay her head in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. "I have something...to tell you."

She broke into the strangest smile, suddenly exuding an air of excitement, and pressed her forehead to his until the tips of their noses almost touched. Her whisper was one of breathless joy.

"We're going to have a baby."

An a rush, spurred on by euphoria and shock, plucked his breath away and threw it across the world. His face remained frozen, his eyes opened as wide as they went, and his mouth in an oval of surprise. Memories and hopes mingled together as he felt his heart tremble.

_He remembered his mother very faintly, from an old photograph he had with his parents. His father was tall, willowy and weathered like himself, with slanting eyes. His mother was frail, a silver-haired waif with a gentle air. "They took care of you the best they could, the rest of their lives," his uncle whispered to him when he felt lonely and mentioned them. "They loved you until the end, and even now they are watching over you in the afterlife."_

_He saw little hands in his own, paler than his and exceedingly soft, and already the world seemed to change before his very eyes. Every danger seemed magnified, every beauty more so. His heart ached with such feelings: excitement and gladness at the joys he can share, fear and guilt at the pains he cannot prevent, and an overwhelming love that enriched his being. The face was indistinct, but his child's voice was clear and happy, and even now he already loved the little person that would change the rest of his life._

_His uncle was a widower, and Paolo had been bereft of a mother at a tender age. Ozzie never was a proactive father and was laidback at best, while detached and inattentive at the worst. This left Toby as the primary playmate, caregiver, and brother. It suited his nurturing nature, his friends always said-he himself knew that he was similarly lazy, and was thankful that Paolo was an independent sort of child. When he saw the usually reserved Gill, however, coddling and cooing his blonde princess with the deftness and instinct of a natural, the fisher felt that he could never really adapt to fatherhood the same way._

_His own baby would be perfect in his eyes-a wondrous blend of himself and his wife, beautiful in his or her own respect. The jitters of holding the baby would subside, he knew, because he would find it irresistible to hold and protect his precious child. The relaxed attitude would be replaced by one of cautious excitement and joy, especially in sharing milestones with his family. The fears and pain and tiredness would disappear when he saw his wife and baby with smiles on their faces._

It wasn't until Molly embraced him with happy tears in her eyes did he feel his lungs move again, and with such gasps.

* * *

Molly's morning sickness was so regular that Toby could set an alarm clock by her scrambling out of bed. At first he panicked while she threw the sour contents of her stomach up and into the toilet. He would rub the small of her back, sitting beside her on the cold tiled floor and letting her rest her dizzy head on his shoulder. Now that it became a rhythm, however, the husband knew that she'd better drink to replace the fluids in her stomach, and that breakfast should be made soon. Seeing his poor wife pale and sweaty from vomiting made him feel like that was the least he could do for her.

Later into the pregnancy, however, required more audience participation. Cravings soon began, and the early ones were not bad: fresh fruits and vegetables were easily obtainable, and gave her such a healthy and happy glow that Toby found it pleasing to feed her with good things. The strange longings soon arrived, though-the fisherman once arrived home to find his beloved dipping sardines into peanut butter.

At one point, he had to go to Toucan Island to get her a nightmarish mess of bananas, pineapples, and coconuts-all fruit Toby despised. The smell aggravated the poor man so much Captain Pascal was shocked to see him hurl for the first time aboard his boat. Molly hadn't a clue of his suffering and promptly devoured his gifts within the next few days, placating her for a good week.

In spite of these prickly spots pregnancy suited Molly, and she radiated such content that people couldn't help but think of what a happy mother she would be. Her side of the family had plenty of children, she said, and she loved the idea of carrying their child. The brunette carried nausea and cravings the best she could, and gained the longing to cuddle close to her husband, and kiss and hug him often. Being with him, she assured, was what she liked best.

And that always made everything better, Toby thought.

* * *

Now it was two-thirty in the morning when a soft hand tried to rouse him, and for the first time he felt very much like sleeping on and being selfish for once in his life.

Indeed the difficult pregnancy had roused the stubborn, irritable side in him, and those who felt his rare guilty moments of unreasonable temper. Sometimes her cravings were too outrageous, her emotions boiling and freezing at too violent speeds, her sensitivity to smells too taxing. And Toby, angelic as he was, was a mortal man like any other-he too had limits to his seemingly endless patience.

(Owen and Luke swore on the Goddess Tree to never deprive him of his alcohol on his monthly bar nights during this perilous period, ever again. Jin was made thankful he did not frequent the bar to drink. Kathy secretly feared what such a temper might do at home, although her father always reassured her-the owner knew the control the fisher, and how to calm him. Everyone was thankful that this single night made him revert into the sweet Toby everyone knew and loved the next day.)

Thus not-so-gentle-at-the-moment Toby fought on, sinking his face deeper into the pillows and dismissing such trifles his wife was prone to, like something she wished to eat at that moment, or something in the room's temperature that did not suit her, or long emotional talks that made his nerves raw at times. Goddess knows he'd done so much.

Alas, the hand did not stop, but began tapping harder on his forearm. She began calling him softly, her voice strained and rising in pitch. "Toby...? Toby...honey, please...wake up...mmgh!"

And the patting became a violent claw, and her sudden grip made the fisher yelp and bolt upright. That was sure to score marks into his skin that would last a few days. Her sharp grunt and exhale was new, though. "...What is it now, Molly?" Already he was dragging himself out of bed to get or adjust what was needed.

"...I think my water broke."

The rapid change of Toby's expression, from confusion to comprehension, shock to panic, mingled with joy and guilt: priceless.

* * *

"I told you to wait outside," Irene snapped, bringing in towels and hot water. Anissa came in with rubbing alcohol and a glass of water for Molly to drink. The two women were moving, for delivering babies have always been women's work. Men were expected to wait outside during this dangerous ordeal, for their squawking would have disrupted the flow of action.

Toby, however, remained by the birthing bed. His steady hand encircled his wife's, and he made no motion to leave her. The elderly midwife gave up scolding and began preparing her work, her granddaughter-in-law close by to give what was needed. She made a pointed purple glance at the young man and warned, "Fine. Stay then, and support Molly. Don't you dare be fearful now-she'll need your strength."

The man did try to be a pillar of strength, but it was hard when his heart was quaking as fast as a horse at full gallop. This bringing in of new life held the shadow of death, for during childbirth the lives of both mother and child are gambled. It was fact, a fact that was widely acknowledged in this tiny town, a fact that frightened him and only made him pray more fervently for his family's safety.

The first strong contraction came as a shock, and Molly yelped and gripped at Toby's hand. Her breathing became raspy, and grip tightened. Amidst the pain, her husband's hand was her anchor.

* * *

He was bloody and sticky and cried with such living force that all worry from Toby's heart fell away. The little mother was faint and foggy, and near unconsciousness, but safe and sound. Anissa took to cleaning the baby, and Irene the room, to give time for the family.

Molly held the child for a few minutes before falling asleep, letting the gurgling little creature rest in the father's arms. The young man felt nervous at holding such a precious thing, fragile and tiny as it was. He poked at the cloth the child was swaddled in, a soft blue thing that smelled of baby powder. Folded inside were two tiny arms, topped by two tiny hands and tinier fingers. Toby watched the baby breathe in a perfectly peaceful rhythm, and squint at him with pink cheeks.

He remembered, for a moment, all the hopes and fears he recalled the moment Molly told him of her pregnancy. He remembered how real those thoughts were now, as his son opened his bright green eyes for the first time. And he knew that he spoke for himself and Molly when he pressed his lips on his son's forehead.

"You're worth everything."

**_fin_**


	6. Wave

**A/N:**

_*dies from college*_

_Just playing with the Enter key. :P Tried reading it out loud and had fun. _

_I apologize in advance for any confusion this might cause._

_Fact: Scurvy is caused by a distinct lack of Vitamin C. Let us replenish that with this awkwardly limey piece, mateys._

_DISCLAIMER: [insert HM: AP disclaimer here]_

* * *

"_Touch me deep_

_Pure and true."_

_-Des'ree_

_***Wave***_

Molly was quietly nursing a sweetly sour raspberry cocktail in her hand  
as Luna's bachelorette party went into the night.

The bar was closed off for this special occasion, and drinks flowed.

There was much talk about the ceremony, the reception, dresses, flowers, stories of sweethearts, everything.

To the rancher's left she overheard Selena and Kathy  
pestering the soon-to-be bride into reviewing details of her nuptials.

She mentioned something about designing her own wedding dress,  
and the effort she put into making herself sufficiently "princess-y".

Swirling the red and pink in her glass, Molly remembered her own wedding.

* * *

_Molly's sister Angela had a Western-style wedding gown,  
as was the usual custom within their clan. _

_Originally she wanted to follow tradition and wear a Western dress as well,  
but plans were always liable to change._

_Her own wedding was turning out to be a little Oriental in nature,  
but she didn't have a proper wedding _kimono_ from the several robes she and her sister shared. _

_Her cousins came to her aid, sending with one of their letters a white cotton robe,  
suited for a perfect_ kakeshita_ - wedding _kimono_. _

_Candice and Shelly helped in weaving the silken _uchikake _or outer robe  
-puffed with cotton at the hem, creamy and embroidered with flowers and waves-  
and Luna spent her time creating the dark blue _obi_, sprinkled with patterns of folding fans._

_It was in this delicate dress of white that Molly married that one late autumn day. _

_The ceremony was simple, the music grand,  
and the atmosphere happy (if just a little bit chilly). _

_Toby-in his own blue_ kimono_, printed with emblems-found himself grow warm at his bride's beauty. _

_Her face was powdered just so, short brown hair  
tucked under the _tsunokakushi -_- wedding headpiece.  
Her curls were pinned with pearls  
that were her once her grandmother's._

_If that wasn't their fairytale coming true, the couple thought,  
nothing was._

_The bells never sounded sweeter, that day they kissed._

* * *

A slight "tap" on the table, and Molly looked up to find her sister-in-law Renee smiling at her.  
She was twirling a lock of short brown hair with her finger,  
and quirking her eyebrow at the quietness of her seatmate throughout the party.

"I'm guessing that all this talk has got you...thinking."

And she attempted to stifle a wider grin by sipping at her drink  
in a manner that covered a good portion of her face

The rancher sighed and laughed.

"In a way, I guess."

She watched as the bride-to-be chattered on, cheerful and excited.

"Reminiscing, that's all. I'm not really up for sharing stories, you know."

Renee's eyes twinkled with a "we'll see" look, listening to the other ladies prattle on.  
There were talks about jewelry, perfume, men, clothes, kisses, drinks, experiences.

Her mind continued to wander.

* * *

_The sand was cold, but Toby had brought the warmest blankets he could find from the Pineapple Inn._

_"We're going to have a picnic under the stars," he told Samson when he was asked,  
but the innkeeper's amused expression showed enough that he knew what it meant. _

_He nudged his wife gently and fell to remembering the sweeter days,  
watching the newlyweds walk out the Pineapple Inn into the sunset._

_It was nice being cuddled up like that as a couple, warm and leaning next to each other. _

_They even kissed each other, once or twice,  
just to feel the little tingle that came with touching each other's lips with their own. _

_They whispered a little about this and that, feeling the silky grit between their toes. _

_The sun had lingered and set mere moments ago._

_Molly was conscious that they were both wearing _komon - _casual -_- kimonos_ that night,  
( she had saved them for another time, but she __did__ pack them and knew who to blame). _

_It was an odd, exciting feeling, knowing that a _kimono_ was so thin. _

_Toby ran his hand over her back,  
and she involuntarily shivered-his fingers swept over each stretch of skin  
as if the _kimono_ made her oh-so-sensitive. _

_She felt a similar sensation rush through her husband  
as she slid her palm on his thinly-covered chest._

_They looked at each other, breathing slightly heavier, before quenching themselves with a kiss._

* * *

"Naughty, naughty Molly, we haven't started our parlor games yet!"

Molly blushed, unaware that her distant and flushed face was attracting attention from the other women.

Phoebe was genuinely curious, and asked her what the matter was.  
The haze of memory scrambled her worlds a little, and the rancher only heard herself mumble

"...Honeymoon..."

before sinking into a deeper pit of embarrassment.

Angela petted her kid sister and cooed at her rapidly reddening cheeks.

"Seems that you were getting to the good part, too!"

Anissa and Renee stifled their giggles, while Kathy and Selena laughed out loud.  
Candice was meekly watching the proceedings with a fiery blush,  
and Phoebe simply gaped at this uncharacteristically risqué behavior of the girl.

Molly let out a nervous laugh.

"Sorry...!"

The others proceeded chattering about their own honeymoons,  
and stories about lingerie and techniques were lost on her  
as she stared into her bright red drink.

She could see her shy face in the reflection,  
and wondered whether it was alright to leave a little early.

"Hey, Molly...can I ask you something?"

"Oh! Um...sure!"

Phoebe was sitting closer to her now, her soft green hair curled and smooth.  
Her bright red glasses were left perched upon her verdant head,  
while she was thinking about abstract thoughts.

The young woman squished her lips together in an unsure gesture,  
and her fingers twiddled until she managed a soft squeak.

"U-um, you said you were thinking about your honeymoon...can you tell me...how did it f-feel?"

She shut up and brightened, obviously embarrassed to be asking such a question.

_I see_, Molly realized. _Phoebe and Calvin mustn't have...consummated their relationship yet._

She thought for a moment before letting out a sigh  
and smiling at the green-haired beauty with a renewed flush on her skin.

"It felt good."

* * *

_The night air was cool, and the water was not, and it licked at the newlyweds' feet._

_Eventually Toby found a way to surprise his new wife with his forwardness,  
pulling at her _kimono_ and printing his lips along her ear, collarbone curve, and chin._

_Said wife surprised herself by replying back, brushing his robes aside,  
marking him on his jaw, neck, and left shoulder._

_There was a shift in dynamics, and soon they were heart to heart and hand in hand.  
Already a feeling of warmth sparked from under them, undulating like waves._

_Their bodies were a symphony, twining forms  
that were lean and curvy, pale and tanned, muscled and smooth. _

_There was nothing but movement and the growing surge of emotion  
that bubbled in their chests,  
spreading out to fold the arms and legs, fingers and toes. _

_The slightly chilly air left their flesh sensitive;  
his skin was slick and heated against hers as they made love,  
for the first time._

* * *

"Hey," Toby whispered, smiling gently.  
He stroked the back of her head and kissed her on the forehead.

"You enjoyed yourself?"

"Mmm," his wife nodded a bit, snuggling closer to him in their bed.

"Didn't really talk much, though. I was distracted."

It was only ten forty-five in the evening when Molly returned home,  
having been coaxed by her friends and sister to get home  
"and busy yourself with your distraction".

She protested at that joke, but remembered that she was quite tired  
of drinking pointless cocktails and hearing awkward stories anyway.

(Not that her daydreaming was helping her either.)

"Oh? By what?"

Molly blushed a bit.

"Thinking about our own honeymoon."

"That sounds like a nice distraction, I'd think,"  
he laughed, pulling her into his chest.  
"Didn't the other girls agree?"

"Don't tease me," the young woman pouted.  
The twinkle in her eye hinted at her husband.  
"It's left me feeling odd now."

"I'm sorry," the fisher replied honestly, attempting to make amends with a snuggle.  
His wife denied the snuggle and continued to frown, troubling Toby.

His worries melted when she moved even closer,  
and his breath hitched when he looked down  
to find brown eyes looking into his green ones  
with a certain shimmering look.

The young man instantly felt the spark of a familiar feeling,  
rising up from his core, at seeing her soft brown irises afire.

A tingle shocked him from his scalp down to the heels of his feet,  
and the woman in his arms suddenly felt so real.

She whispered into his ear, her voice a breath of sudden heat.

"Would you fill up the ache in me?"

He leaned down from above her on all fours and kissed her, hot and deep,  
and felt the passion crash down from their mouths.

"I will."

**~~~TBC~~~**


	7. Remember

**Remember**

**.**

**.**

**.  
**

The sun was hot and bright, yellowing the landscape with its aura.

It was perfectly quiet at the ranch, with only the sound of the animals enjoying the afternoon.  
A few clouds here and there moved with the barely-there breeze.  
It was good weather, and a good day as any to do laundry.

Molly set out to do just that, bringing a washtub and a pail full of clothes. The heat dictated her to wear a hat,  
and she decided to wear just that—one that was done in light straw and red ribbon.

Her clothes were faded and baggy (one of her old makeshift maternity shirts),  
to prevent any great loss from stray splashes. She went out to the little stream that ran by the waterwheel of the farm,  
where the water was cold and clean.

The rancher set out to work, dipping the tub into the stream and pulling up water before adding the detergent and clothes.  
She had forgotten to sort through the clothes, and she decided to put all the colored fabrics in first.  
The yellow blouses she liked and the thin summer coats her husband wore—they mixed with the others in a swirl of wet color.  
Molly let the clothes soak and sat on a rock by the stream, looking at the stacked pile of white clothes.

A tiny sock caught her eye, and suddenly the day turned grey.

* * *

_It was a beautiful winter when the first little flicker touched from just behind her bellybutton._

_A joy it was, feeling something so amazing right from under her skin after spending autumn cautiously waiting for a kick._  
_Every cloudy gray day seemed a little brighter, and in spite of the weird, sickly feelings_  
_Molly found it to be a beautiful thing to be with child._

_Toby was there, and of course he was happy._  
_He didn't really go very giddy, but whenever they were alone he would absently run a hand over her middle,_  
_imagining the life they would have._  
_They excited soon-to-be parents talked until they fell asleep, the three of them watching the stars,_  
_thinking about wishes and dreams and hopes._

_Those were the most promising months of her life._

* * *

Holding the sock in her palm, the rancher made a mental note

to put it away with all the other things—little shirts and tiny booties—in that one dresser drawer that she kept locked.  
Molly wanted to look in it as little as possible. She wasn't ready yet.

(The key to that drawer she kept on a string around her neck, even now pressing against her breast  
with a sentiment tattooed into her heart.)

After a long while and a certain amount of scrubbing, she drained the tub of water carefully until the clothes remained.  
It was time to dry them, the farmer remembered,  
and the house had clotheslines hanging from the roof—she could always get to them through the windows.

The little washerwoman carefully hefted her bundle and went inside the house.

* * *

_A presentiment of doom engraved itself upon Molly's heart when the contractions came in the early spring._

_Irene looked so grim with every passing hour, and Anissa grew paler that she looked like she would faint_  
_had she been given the choice. They watched the poor little mother strain, longing to feel the little touches_  
_of her child that reminded her of his existence._

_The blood bath came with (what could have been, but was now what was left of) the tiny baby; the room went still._

* * *

The last clothespin went on the sheet, and Molly stepped back as she admired her handiwork from the second floor window.  
The summer sun would dry them quickly enough, and she could make dinner while they dried.

As if on cue, Clarence made his way through the baking tiles and wooden roof deck.

The white cat was a solitary creature, and did not often show affection to its owners.  
Nonetheless, the purring thing felt unusual today and graced his human's presence with a friendly rub of the head.

"Hi there," Molly murmured, feeling the softness of fur slip between her fingers.  
She tried to scratch his chin, reaching her fingers out, and felt the white body slink away to the farther part of the roof.

Clarence tiptoed away, and vanished from her sight.

* * *

_The life after the initial pain was hollow. _  
_All the couple's energies for their child congealed into a bitter mess. _  
_For the first few weeks, they were inconsolable._

_Molly sank into a deep sadness, and visions began to cloud her dreams—crying and blood and regret and love. _  
_Her eyes were often swollen at night, and it was a long time before any color came into her face. _  
_She tried to pick herself up, but the pieces were too sharp to take without cutting herself._

_Toby talked and ate less, and his already weather-worn face began to show even more. His quietness was one of sorrow, although he tried his hardest to pull it back. He buried himself deeper into work, and fell into a darker mood than anyone could recall._

_(A faint line appeared when his wife brushed her hand against his forehead one night, but he smoothed the other's bleary eyelids with his thumb.)_

_One night he returned angry, and for the first time Molly shrank away from husband. He spoke roughly, and his breath smelled strongly of alcohol. The words that spilled out were those of anger and pain and blame. It was miraculous that he did not become violent, and slumped into his wife's arms at their bed._

_"…It hurts so much," he murmured. Repentant, he pressed his lips to his poor spouse's forehead, who clung even tighter._

_"…I'm sorry, sweetheart." Her tears flowed freely once more, and she was touched to feel dampness trickle down on her shoulder._

_"…I'm sorry."_

_They clung to each other, apologizing, for a very long time._

* * *

It was evening now, and the laundry had been packed away, the supper made, the dishes done.

After a while, there was a turning of the doorknob, the sharp click of the key sounded out.  
A tall shadow entered the entryway and carefully locked his entrance again.  
The moon hung over the house, and pushed the man's silhouette farther into the room.

Toby found his food carefully covered, and his wife fast asleep.  
The fisherman saw that his wife had tried to stay up for him, and had fallen into slumber.  
He couldn't help but manage a weak pang in his chest, seeing that.

_I shouldn't stay out so late._

He changed his clothes and crept next to her, and saw her wide brown eyes flutter open.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, silver hair reaching out towards the side of his wife's pale cheek.  
Molly's fingers laced between his, and rolled closer.

They looked into each other's faces, and felt an unspoken connection bridge their hearts.  
They exchanged little smiles, and closed their eyes.

_Whatever happened, they would make it through together._

**FIN**

* * *

_A/N:_

_I tried a Seventh Sanctum generated writing challenge. It said:_

_"A character will do laundry._

_A character is sad throughout most of the story."_

_This is what came out of it!_

_(Although, I felt sad while writing it. )_


End file.
